I cannot believe where the time has gone, can you? One minute, it's the school holidays where, when allowed, my head has been full of making plans and preparations for my Big August Premiers (everything seems to happen at once, doesn't it?) – and the next minute, they're all over, done and dusted. And it's onto the next. Knitting-wise, even I have to admit that August has been a good month! Not only did we have the first ever, whole day workshop at Deanfoot (showcasing my very first lace scarf design) but Nick Sharratt used the scarves that I had designed for him to help launch his new children's book, "Shark in a Park on a Windy Day" at the Edinburgh Book Festival. And, if that wasn't enough, we're soon to release the patterns – "Scarves in the Park" - which will be another first for me as I explore the world of pattern selling. I also designed a brand new project for my "Learn to Knit" classes and started working on another commission for another children's author. Wow, actually "wow". Do you know, if you hadn't given me this opportunity to reflect and review, I might never have known. In classic-Katherine style, I'm already busy with the next thing without really giving a moment's thought to what we've achieved. So thank you, thank you and thank you :-)

It's all been a lot of fun though and, of course, it's not been something that I've been able to accomplish on my own. This isn't the Oscars so I won't keep you with a long list of thanks but I am very much a team player, and I really appreciate being able to bounce ideas off family and friends, turn to them when it all feels a little too much – and serve cheesy pasta the umpteenth time at home. My outside world has also been making demands of its own: It's been harvest time in the garden and we have, quite literally, been enjoying the fruits and vegetables of our earlier labours. Now I could turn into my father and start harping on about the wonders of home-grown produce and how I've never tasted peas so sweet as those from my pods – but even I know where the line is. For those of you who follow my twitter feed, you'll know what fun I've been having racing the clock to cook the veg plucked straight from the garden in the quickest time possible – but as you also know, I'm a woman of extremes and so we've also enjoyed some of the earlier harvest that we froze - in a gooseberry and strawberry cobbler.

The chickens have also been providing us with more than their usual excitement: We have had three clutches of eggs hatch this summer and "Apple" has gone AWOL so there might be one more. (In case you're wondering, Apple, Blackberry and Samsung are Pepper's offspring from last year.) Primrose, Custard's daughter (I hope you're keeping up?!), was finally released from her run last week with daughters Calamity (Jane) and Katie (pronounced "Kadie") – so named because Calamity had a nasty fall from the top of her little house. Pepper and her 11 chicks are still in their post-natal run and I reckon that five or six of those are girlies (if only they would keep still for long enough to count!). And then there's Blackberry and her three chicks (too early for me to tell). Having, err, "dispatched" of Primrose's cockerels, Husband is bracing himself for Pepper's lot and not at all impressed with the prospect of Apple sauntering out of the long grass with a line of chicks behind her. Clearly one of our priorities next year will be keeping the side of the burn under control and less jungle-like if we ever hope to spot broody chickens as well as any recently laid eggs. (We had to buy eggs again – seriously?!!) A formal run would, of course, solve all these issues but it's clear that our chickens love having the freedom of the garden so we've no plans to change that. But let's see what happens next year. As I look forward to September, so too do I find a bulging "to-do" list. Thank you to those who have registered for the "Introduction to Socks" workshop - there are a few more spaces if you want to join us on Sunday 13th. Then there's "Professional Finishing" in Edinburgh at the end of the month – as well as "Learn to Knit" being offered both in the capital and closer to home. And then it's time to look forward again, to the exciting times at the end of October, including a festive workshop here, working with the fab team at Woman's Weekly at Glasgow SECC and the imaginative Geeky Puffin Knit Palooza in Edinburgh. Happy days.... And may I wish you all happy days too xx

On Saturday, I held my first ever full-day workshop at Deanfoot - though when I say "I", I really mean it was a team effort. One of the vital team members was Dana, most wonderful friend and skilled crafter herself (have you seen her gorgeous children's clothes?). Dana, and her military-style organisational skills, meant that the quiet preparation all came together at just the right time. With some additional help from Sheena, little miracles kept occurring: Furniture magically moving back under the gazebo, dishes cleared and who can forget the ball-winding dance! Thank you both very much.

Another key team member was Jenny from The Core who brilliantly led our yoga and, rather fantastically, the weather allowed us to practise outside! I don't have a great experience of yoga (unless wishing that I had time to do more counts?!) but I was very surprised at the difference it made doing it outdoors: It was simply wonderful. I have come to realise that there are probably few "perfect" places to practise yoga – even in a designated studio there will always be some untimely sound (usually at the relaxation part) – such as a lorry driving past or someone entering / exiting from a neighbouring building. So long as these don't interfere with your practise or create a distraction from which you can't separate yourself then these, as with lots of aspects of life, are things that we can try to accept and move on from. So while we were outside with the birds chirping in the trees around us, the water falling gently down the stream into the pond and enjoying the soft breeze upon our skin, yes vehicles continued to use the nearby road, trains ran along the track behind that – and a one of the resident cats had a quick sniff to check that the group of women lying in corpse pose weren't actually dead. This is me, so yes, I did fret a little that these "nuisances" might adversely affect the others but they seemed to take them in their stride – and were hopefully too consumed by the super class that Jenny had prepared. She pitched it to exactly the right level for all of us and executed it with her usual grace and friendliness – making everyone feel included and able, no matter what their (my!) actual ability.

Now you know that no workshop of mine would be complete without food playing quite an important role and so immediately after yoga, we sat together and enjoyed a breakfast of fresh fruit, yogurt, croissants and muffins. And then the knitting started!

This was an introduction to lace knitting for which I had designed a simple, but elegant, scarf using the falling leaf pattern, knitted in the ever sumptuous "Fine Art" from Rowan. "Antoinette" is designed to be beautiful yet functional, with a loop to allow the scarf to loosely fasten without flapping around shoulders or needing constant adjustment (spot the mother with two young children!). I am delighted to report that all knitters produced some simply stunning pieces of work! It was a joy to see confidence building as each row was completed, share in the satisfaction of seeing the pattern coming to life and a real pleasure to enjoy the different colour ways of the Fine Art as the scarves grew on the needles. One of the major learning points for me is the revelation that chocolate brownies are essential for lace knitting – for which I also need to thank Dana (I'd baked them for afternoon consumption - of course we had enough for two servings!). During that first row of knitting, which is always a bit tricky following the cast on and particularly if you've just learnt a new method to do so, it can be easy to feel overwhelmed: So much to take in – new techniques, the counting, the repeats, the counting, the keeping your place in the pattern, the counting, the occasional TINKing, the counting and then oh! The blessed relief of reaching the end of the row with the correct number of stitches! It can be exhausting! And put that way, it's blindingly obvious that brownies are required – and seemed to do the trick just nicely.

There was of course lunch after which we relaxed comfortably for another hour or so of knitting. If I could have bottled the atmosphere in the studio... It was just so wonderful to be part of that group at that time. Most of the major knitting hurdles had been crossed and people seemed content to carry on knitting at their own pace, enjoying the chat and the music (thanks again, Dana).

Little Miss Worry Pants (that's me, in case you’re wondering) always starts to feel uneasy at such times because I worry that I'm not doing my job if I'm not busy helping others – but there's something to be said for just being one of the knitters, and that thing is "thank you. Thank you very, very much".

Our day concluded with a soak in the hot tub. Not really sure what needs to be said about sitting in blood temperature water with the sun shining down on you: Bubbles, bubbles and more bubbles. It was a bit difficult to get out – as Husband will affirm as he found Sheena and me still wallowing nearly two hours later!

With requests for another knitting and yoga day retreat, I'm already planning new versions of Saturday including an exciting collaboration with Sheena, Seamstress par excellence and the talent of SeamSew. So keep a look out for more information – or join my mailing list (by emailing me) so that you're always among the first to know. Which leaves me to say an enormous "thank you" to everyone who came. Thank you for sharing so much of your precious time with me, thank you for being such excellent company, thank you for making a truly wonderful day xx

It seems as though I've hardly spent any time at home this month – through a combination of my machine knitting workshop (which you already know about) and a fortnight's holiday in North Wales (that started with a quick jaunt into mid-Wales to collect a new knitting machine; it's like my life revolves around knitting). This is my first full week at home and whoosh! It's the end of the month already.

On reflection, it seems that July has been a productive knitting month – and no, I'm not just referring to the machine knitting that is super speedy and also super satisfying. The scarves needed for the Edinburgh Book Festival are near completion and yesterday, I finished the final panel of the baby / fireside blanket that I've designed for my next series of "Learn to Knit" classes. (Lots and lots of motor home knitting :-) ) This morning, while the panels lay drying, I cast on the first 41 stitches of the lace scarf that I've designed for my yoga retreat day and I'm really looking forward to making some progress on it this evening. So yes, all work knitting but hey! I can't complain when knitting is my work (and don't worry Team Pink: I'll be uploading some images of the completed items to the Geeky Puffin Knit Palooza KAL – and that'll hopefully earn us a few points).

I was about to tell you that I haven't bought any yarn this month and in one sense this is quite true: I haven't actually been to a yarn shop, fallen in yarn love and left with a bulging rucksack, trying to maintain an air of innocence while avoiding eye contact with my beloved Husband. In reality, this is a massive three black sacks of random yarn away from the actual truth – for along with the knitting machine, came three bin bags of yarn on cones. I am so completely overwhelmed by the amount that they are still on the motor home from where they accompanied us on the hundreds of miles of our holiday. I have tidied up one of the sheds to act as a quarantine area in preparation for receiving a more ordered version of this cargo – but then it started raining and that put an end to it.

Speaking of rain, there does seem to have been rather a lot of it – mostly, I'm pleased to say, in our absence. It has run riot with the vegetables that I was lovingly growing: I'm am not exaggerating when I tell you that the spinach is as tall as I. As a vegetable, it's pretty useless – having outgrown its worth and gone to seed – and I fear that some of the others might be going the same way. But not all: I have some plump looking beetroot, not too scrawny leeks and below some giant leaves, wee broccoli crowns (is that what you call them?). Somewhat predictably, the boys are far less interested in the patch now that there's a definite risk that I might actually expect them to eat some of the produce. Leeks, apparently, are poisonous in anything other than leek and potato soup; I fear I may be "hiding" the beetroot in chocolate cakes – and perhaps doing similar with the courgettes. Might be on safer ground with the peas and, since the tomatoes remain a stubborn green, we might be saved an additional argument or two.

It has been a terrific learning experience though, and I'm really excited about next year. The strawberries were delicious – but there weren't enough of them. And even though they'll be moving into the smaller greenhouse next year, there's still room for at least a couple more plants. Under the advisement of one of my neighbours, I will be growing next year's tomatoes in the larger greenhouse and, due to my training in the identification and removal of side shoots, the plants may look less jungle like. I will also sow the seeds earlier – although, in fairness, given the lack of heat this summer and particularly these last three weeks, there isn't a huge difference between the late and early versions.

I'm also hoping to better plan our holiday. While it's nice to go away in the summer – and indeed, we were very fortunate with some great weather in Wales – it's a really silly time to go away in terms of the garden. We missed the last of our strawberries and it was only with the help of my mum that we harvested fruit from the gooseberry bushes – now all safely stored in the freezer awaiting transformation into jam, crumble, curd or other. Although we installed an automated watering system, it's the finer details that can make all the difference – like controlling the temperature of the greenhouse by opening / closing windows and doors at the appropriate time. And the not so delicate tasks such as harvesting your produce before it goes to waste. Husband doesn't agree with me and so perhaps another solution is that a keen gardener or two could holiday at ours while we're away – applications in writing, please, care of the Lady of the House.

Of course, no blog would be complete without mentioning the chickens and my word! What a chaotic lot they turn out to be. The day after my June blog, Primrose (the hen that I'd "imprisoned", remember?) became the proud mother to eight chicks. One went mysteriously missing, the less healthy one died and so we're left with six. Want to hazard a guess at the number of cockerels? Four. Then one fell and got trapped in the wire of the run and looked, for a couple of hours, as though they might not make it. Want to guess the sex of that bird? Female, of course. However, I'm most pleased to report that under the loving care of another of our brilliant neighbours, she has recovered and is now back with her mother and siblings. Just call our neighbour Dr Dolittle. But this is not all the news. Oh no. We were still a chicken down. The day after our return I had searched the garden for said chicken and had found a clutch of 10 eggs and feared that their mother had been got by Mr Fox, Fantastic or otherwise. Dr Dolittle had also searched for her while we were away and this man is an expert (you may remember that while we were on holiday last summer, he discovered the same chicken sitting on 11 eggs, 10 of which hatched.) Anyway, just two days ago I was taking a friend over to the kitchen garden to show her the jungle that it had become when Pepper came strutting out of the undergrowth with 11, yes eleven, chicks! Five beautiful black ones, five creamy yellow and one gorgeous little yellow one who was clearly the last to hatch as was struggling on its feet. They are now all safely ensconced in post-natal unit number two. And yes, start placing your odds for the number of cockerels in this batch.

What next? Well, I should probably start eating some of the food I've grown – rather than staring at it helplessly, which is my current approach. And I should also do something about the weeds, at least some of them: "Natural" is all very well, but we're sporting the Amazonian look and this really isn't compatible with collecting eggs from free-range hens (or, indeed, monitoring their numbers). Knitting wise, once the lace scarf is finished, that's all my work knitting complete for workshops up until the end of October – when I'll be teaching at The Geeky Puffins Knit Palooza and Crafts for Christmas at Glasgow SECC. The latter doesn't need any formal prep as the brilliant people at Women's Weekly will be providing the patterns and handouts. The former requires a brand new design for a brand new class (exciting!) and even though my second workshop is familiar ground (sock heels), I'll want to revamp it especially for the occasion. Oh! Speaking of socks, I've changed the format of my sock workshop here: It's now going to be a full day (10:30 – 16:30) on Sunday 13th September. More details can be found here. This wee break in the work schedule might actually mean that I get a chance to knit for pleasure.... Watch this space!!